Friday, March 9, 2007


Over the past few nights I've been have incredibly vivid dreams. I normally do not remember my dreams except for one a few months ago that I might be turning into a short story (it was that interesting!). Thursday morning however I woke up crying.

I had been dreaming that my father, who I have a tenuous relationship with, was dying and I was trying frantically to type of his dictation so that the doctor next up could help him better. My mom was there in the office with me, screaming at me to hurry meanwhile I'm finding out what my dad has. Pulmonary embolism, bilateral subdural hematoma, MRSA, failing kidneys and liver function, congestive heart failure, and colon cancer. He was dying and instead of being with him, I was typing. Albeit I was typing about him. So I woke up crying. I love my dad - I really do. But he's hurt me so much with his words and actions over the years, and he knows it, that it's hard to be really close to him.

He is the man who told me no one will marry me because I'm fat.
He's the man who has a temper tantrum, puts his face inches from yours, screams at you, and threatens to hit you before walking away. Even though you did nothing wrong to begin with.
He's the man who is constantly complaining about being married to my mom, constantly bitching about her whenever I'm alone with him, constantly putting her down because of her weight and how unattractive it is etc.
He's the man who told me, when I was goth, that I was an embarrassment to the family.

And yet - I know he loves me.
When I was little and fell asleep on the couch, he'd carry me into my room and tuck me in. If I was already in bed, he made a point of checking on me and kissing my forehead. When my mom was pregnant, they kept a journal and I read it a few years ago. In it, he says that even if I came out as a girl, he'd teach me to play hockey because it didn't matter if I was a girl or boy. That he really wanted a daughter. He was the man going to the cops when I was too scared to go to school because of the assaults. He was the one who was threatening to confront the people who were beating on me every day.

So what does this dream mean? That I should spend more time with him because he might be gone one day? Thinking about my parents never being around makes me cry every time; I can't imagine them not being here.

I don't know. I know he loves me. I love him. But our relationship is tense. We're awkward around each other.

Last night I had another vivid dream but it wasn't the same. It involved me killing someone, fighting my way through a store.. riding down the highway on a dirt bike, spinning around while the cops were shooting at me, climbing up a tree to cross into another country, while one of my friends couldn't make it. Meanwhile I told him every time I teased him about watching Rosanne, it was because I loved him. Then after that the detectives found the young kid we had killed a few years ago while digging up the lawn and I was scared that my dad was going to throw a fit over his ruined grass. Oh and there was me getting impregnated by a mini-man's baby in between the beds at Sears.

Go figure. :/

1 comment:

About Grandpa and I said...

Wow, you must have a popular blog! Your blog showed up as one of the subjects to check out on my Google Page.

It is fun to read and I can relate, as I was once a stenogirl in a Radiology Dept from 11-7pm. How boring is it transcribing specimens. Aaack!

Really enjoyed reading your blog and bookmarked to keep up with it.

Gpa & I are newbie bloggers. We might be a little boring at first till we catch on, but hope you will drop by now and then. :)